by Remember Me
else than to look her in the face and try to understand why she did what she did.
Through my own investigation of files pertaining to the project, I was also able to find
several clues as to the identity of my true father. I don’t know if locating him will be an easy
task, but right now it isn’t my primary concern.
Tomorrow I will journey into town and find the home of Heather Whitmore. This has
been made easier by the revelation of my uncle that Todd Whitmore, Heather’s husband, is the
local mayor. My aunt and uncle believe I know one of their children and am looking to
reacquaint myself to a daughter. This is a lie, I have no intentions of speaking with the child.
I will end here, so I can get some rest as I have a busy day planned for tomorrow. I will
sign in as soon as I get some more information...”
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 153
Margaret looked up from the entry and over to the tree where the young girl sat reading.
She could see the cover of the book and recognized the novel as a steamy romance that she had
read herself several months earlier. She smiled to herself, thinking she had already found
something that her sister and she shared.
She paid little attention to the book, instead staring long and hard at the girl. Something
bothered her about the young woman, and she couldn’t put a finger on just what it was. She
looked extremely familiar to Margaret.
A feeling of panic came over Margaret once she realized what she was staring at. She
picked up the pen and dated the next page of the journal.
“...I am currently sitting in a park at the center of town. I just finished looking through
some old newspaper reels at the library. I should also note that I now have the name of my
father, but I will get back to that later.
I am watching something which deeply disturbs me, and in the interest of this project, I
must be completely honest about all my feelings during my stay here.
I am now looking over at the daughter of Heather and Todd Whitmore. In all honesty, I
must confess that I learned about Todd Whitmore long before I had any idea that my parents had
adopted me and that I was involved in the artificial uterus project.
The night I came across the information which led me in the search for my mother, I was
aiding a good friend of mine who wanted to know the identity of her father. My friend’s mother
was a patient of my father and I knew I could help her find the answer to her question.
It was upon looking through her files that we came across the name of Todd Whitmore.
He was listed as the father on my friend’s documents. I learned later that Todd Whitmore had
married the woman who aborted me.
Since leaving the library, I have run across the office of the mayor and located who I
believe is one of his daughters. Scratch that, I’m sure she is one of his daughters, as well as my
own mother’s. I am looking across at her from a park bench at this moment.
On my nightstand at home I have a picture of myself and my friend, Amy, standing
outside at a picnic I went to with her and her parents. The picture was taken a year ago and is
only of us. I see it each morning and it reminds me of our friendship.
Right this moment, as I look over at the young girl in the park, I see both of the faces
from that picture. Both of the images from the picture brought together as one face on this girl. I
can’t describe my feelings now, to realize that somehow, Amy and I are linked by this girl who is
a half sister to each of us. I’ve never had such a strange feeling like this before.
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 154
It helps me to realize that Amy and I are sisters. We always have been. I know that we
really aren’t, but with this missing link now sitting before me, I realize Amy and I have more
than just a friendship. We are both of the same circumstances...”
Margaret stopped suddenly as she noticed the sound of sprinklers coming on in the park.
She closed her journal quickly to keep it dry and looked around to make sure she remained safe
from the water.
The sprinklers had come on only in one section of the park, and unluckily for the young
girl reading on the grass, they forced her to take refuge. She jumped up and ran away from the
emerging water.
Margaret put the journal away in her bag and watched as the girl hurried towards her.
Margaret could hardly believe when the girl stopped at the bench to sit down. Something about
facing the girl had bothered her. She felt guilty for spying on the unaware girl. At the same
moment, she felt excited to meet the girl, when she already knew so much about her.
“Do you mind sharing your bench?” asked the girl.
“Not at all,” answered Margaret. “Looks like the sprinklers are out to get you.”
“That’s the story of my life lately. Everywhere I go it tries to rain on me.”
“How do you like the book so far?” asked Margaret, taking advantage of the opportunity.
“It’s rather slow,” answered the girl.
“It gains some momentum towards the third chapter.”
“Have you read it?” asked the girl.
“Sure,” answered Margaret. “I’ve read all her books. I love the imagery that she uses to
describe the scenes. It’s a pretty stimulating novel to read.”
“I know,” answered the girl in an excited tone. “My mom would die if she knew I was
reading it.”
Margaret looked over at the girl who had gone back to reading where she left off. She
didn’t notice Margaret staring back at her. Margaret realized this was the easiest way to meet
Heather. Besides, after that last remark, she already liked the girl.
“My name is Margaret Drake.”
“Oh,” uttered the girl apologetically. “I’m sorry. My name is Carol. You aren’t from
around here, are you?”
“Actually,” answered Margaret. “I believe I started out here, but I grew up far away from
here. I’m in town visiting my aunt right now. She lives on the outskirts of town.”
“How long are you in town for?”
“Just a few weeks,” answered Margaret. “Is there anything exciting to do in town during
the summer?”
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 155
“It all depends on what you’re into. You can find things to keep your interests, but it’s
really quite a quiet town.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons I enjoy it so much.”
“How old are you, Margaret?”
“I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks,” Margaret answered. “I just graduated last week. How
about you?”
“I’ll be starting my junior year this fall. I hope it flies by, I can’t wait to graduate, so I can
leave.”
“Why do you want to leave?”
“It’s hard to explain, but when your parents run the entire town, it’s as if you can never
get out of the house. Everywhere I go people know me and I never get away from their rules.”
“I don’t understand?” Margaret lied, now growing comfortable with her act.
“I’m sorry,” apologized the young woman. “I expect you to know who I am too. My
father’s the local mayor, and my mother is pretty high up in the city affairs.
Between the two of
them, they control a large section of the county. Everywhere I go, they have control over me. If I
stay out too late one night, they impose a curfew on the entire city, and the police enforce it.”
“That sounds awful. If you mess up, all your friends get to share in your punishment.”
“Oh, I don’t have a whole lot of friends. Everyone thinks I’m a snob because my parents
are so high up in the community social ladder. I have a few people I associate with, but mainly
because my parents are friends with their parents. It’s one of the primary benefits of having
powerful parents.”
Margaret studied her new acquaintance carefully. She looked like a quiet, and innocent
young woman, but after talking with her for a few moments, Margaret had already obtained a
feel for her. Extremely sarcastic, but undeniably honest, the girl seemed rather friendly. Still, she
had a dismal sense of humor, and gave the opinion of a pessimist.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re too thrilled with your parents.”
“Well, to be honest,” answered the girl. “I don’t mind them, they’re pretty decent parents.
I just can’t wait to get away from here. Someplace where they can’t order the criminal records on
any guy I try to date.”
“I think I’m starting to see the picture,” assured Margaret. “They don’t approve of your
boyfriend.”
“They won’t even give him a chance. They say he’s too old for me and that I should look
for a guy who’s going places. I don’t want a guy who’s going places, I want Shane. He’s stable,
he’s faithful, and he’s the only person who understands me and got to know me for who I was,
not who my parents are.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 156
“It’s way beyond a ‘liking’ relationship. We have something really special, but they do
whatever they can to keep us apart. I don’t want to lose him.”
The girl stopped for a moment and set down her book. She looked out at the park. The
surroundings had a peaceful feeling with only the chatter of sprinklers disrupting the silent
morning air.
“I shouldn’t be laying my whole life story on a stranger,” uttered the girl. “I’m sorry, the
last thing you probably want to hear on your vacation is my sob story. I must sound so pathetic to
you. You don’t even know me.”
“I might not know you,” answered Margaret, "but I know a lot about parents. That’s the
funny thing about parents, they don’t ever seem to want to let go. Everybody gets the feelings
you have, even me. There’s just something about leaving the town you grew up in right after
school is over. Everybody wants to start new where nobody knows their name and they can live
by their own rules. It’s really nice to meet somebody I have something in common with.”
“So what are you doing sitting in this park during your vacation?” the girl asked
Margaret.
“I was just trying to decide what I was going to do for the rest of the day. I’m trying to
learn a little about the area. Today I’m exploring the mall. You can get a pretty good feel for an
area by shopping its mall. If you want to, it would be nice to have somebody who knows the area
joining me?”
“Sure,” answered Carol. “That sounds like great fun. My father’s in the office right
across the street. Let me just go let him know that I’m leaving and we can head over there now.”
“Great,” answered Margaret as she stood up from the bench and walked over with the girl
to the building. She buried the journal deep in her bag and waited on the sidewalk for her new
friend to emerge from the building. She knew the girl could give her all sorts of information that
she needed.
Margaret returned home about seven that evening. Her aunt had already begun dinner and
she joined her in setting the table. Her uncle still worked outside with the horses and there were
several minutes until the meal was done.
“So how was your exploration of the city?” her aunt asked as the smell of fresh baked
bread came rushing from the open oven.
“It was truly a learning experience. I was able to see much of the town’s older side today.
I stopped in the library to research some of the city’s past. It was extremely eye opening.”
“Well that’s wonderful to hear, Margaret. You always did find ways to make the most out
of your day. I never believed you last night when you said you were in limbo and just taking
things one day at a time.”
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 157
“What do you mean?” Margaret asked with interest.
“I know you,” her aunt explained. “Some people like to sit around and dream, others like
to put their dreams into action. Ever since you were a little child, you went after your dreams.
You say you’re just relaxing and thinking about the future, but deep down, you really aren’t. You
can’t.”
“So then, what am I doing?”
“Subconsciously, or maybe you realize that your doing it, but deep down, you plan your
days to the minute. You set out each day with a list of goals. They don’t always have order, but
there is some planning involved. You’re guided by a desire which won’t let you sit idly by
thinking about things beyond your control. Your desire forces you to dominate the things you
can control.”
“I don’t know, aunt Kate, I find myself dreaming about nonsense a lot of times. Maybe
I’m not as determined as you think.”
“I disagree,” Kate defended her assessment. “I’ve always stood back and watched every
one of you children. You have a lot of heart, Margaret. If you want to achieve great things, you
will. I know a lot of people who sit around waiting for something to happen. You go out and
make those things happen for you. You’re very independent.”
Margaret loved how her aunt could pick out the positive in a person’s character. She
knew her aunt had a gift for understanding people after just a short conversation with them. She
could easily judge whether she and a person were compatible as a friendship in just a few
minutes. Most of all, she had a feel for people, and she found good in everyone.
Margaret often found herself amazed by how her aunt understood her more than Margaret
understood herself. Her aunt had a talent for recognizing specific traits that a person couldn’t see
in themselves. Her aunt’s intuition had always fascinated her.
“If you know so much about why I’m here,” Margaret began. “Then why don’t you tell
me what I’m trying to do so that we both know.”
“Oh, Margaret,” her aunt assured her. “I don’t know what specifically you are trying to
do. All I can say is that it’s something very important to you. I’ve never seen you as focused as
you are on this visit. Even the summer you decided to build a cabin on the north end of the ranch.
But I think you know what it is that you’re after.”
“Really?”
“Sure, Margaret. Most people would be a little bit more confused if they didn’t know
what they were trying to accomplish. They would also wander around taking their time. You’re
trying to do something
right now. You might not know what it is yet, but something in the back
of your mind does.”
A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?
© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 158
The tension Margaret felt building up faded as her uncle walked in the backdoor.
Margaret felt relieved, fearful that her aunt could see right through her and might suspect
something. She had experienced deep conversations with her aunt before, but never felt that she
had anything to hide.
It seemed odd to Margaret. Here was one woman who could truly help her sort through
her own feelings, yet she guarded the information she had learned, and felt it was not the time to
discuss it. She knew the presence of her uncle would return the conversation to a more casual
manner.
Margaret ate her dinner and afterwards sat around reading some books for about an hour.
The darkness outside began to cast a spell of sleep on her tired body and she decided to call it an
evening. She bid her aunt and uncle goodnight and retired to the guestroom.
Margaret sat down on her bed and pulled out the journal from her bag. She had so much
to write down in the book. She began by filling in the information she had learned while at the
library. Then she started writing down what she had learned about her new friend.
“...Carol seems like a very nice girl. She is rather confused at this point in time, and very
susceptible to outside points of view. Her background and family history have left her without
any real close friends to express her feelings with.
Her parents have made a great mistake by discouraging her relationship with her
boyfriend. I get the feeling that he was the only close friend she had ever known. The separation
from him has left her deeply troubled. I was able to get her to open up some of her feelings to me
today, and will make it a point to help her keep in contact with her boyfriend or find someone
else in this area that she can rely on as a good friend.
I really like this girl. She has given me a great insight into the woman whom she calls
mother. I can’t wait to meet this woman. We have decided to spend the day together again
tomorrow, and I will meet her at her home. There I expect to meet Heather for the first time. I
have no idea how I will respond to her.